F.U.B.A.R.
Bluelight Crew
Like Stee, when I went over in 2000, I was between habits so had zero tolerance. Id also been eating clonazepam like sweets for the preceding month, so banging some gear wasn't the wisest decision. I even spilt the first attempt cos I was so fucked - I should have given up there, but stupidly I cooked another.
I only had a 1/4 of a bag, but with all the benzos, it took me right over the edge. But rather than just falling into a nod I couldn't be roused from, I knew something was very wrong when the rush hit and didn't stop - it just carried on building in intensity until I was overwhelmed and went down like a sack of spuds. The last thing I remember was my mate saying "have you got pins and needles in your head?" I replied with "they're all over my fucking body!"
The next thing I knew was waking up in hospital just as the doctor was withdrawing the needle. Because I didn't have a habit, there were no precipated withdrawals, in fact I felt ace, just a little bemused. They kept me in overnight for observation, but let me go next morning.
Afaik, I wasn't given naloxone by the paramedics, only by the doctor. Wasn't it standard kit in 2000?
When the paramedics arrived and my Mrs had told them what I'd taken (she even gave them the last of my clonaz - which I wasn't happy about), they got me in the ambulance and just as Mrs Fubz was about to get in they suddenly slammed the door shut on her. 5 minutes later they let her in. Apparently my heart had stopped and that's when the defib came out. My t-shirt had been slit open as well. Is that standard practice?
I only had a 1/4 of a bag, but with all the benzos, it took me right over the edge. But rather than just falling into a nod I couldn't be roused from, I knew something was very wrong when the rush hit and didn't stop - it just carried on building in intensity until I was overwhelmed and went down like a sack of spuds. The last thing I remember was my mate saying "have you got pins and needles in your head?" I replied with "they're all over my fucking body!"
The next thing I knew was waking up in hospital just as the doctor was withdrawing the needle. Because I didn't have a habit, there were no precipated withdrawals, in fact I felt ace, just a little bemused. They kept me in overnight for observation, but let me go next morning.
Afaik, I wasn't given naloxone by the paramedics, only by the doctor. Wasn't it standard kit in 2000?
When the paramedics arrived and my Mrs had told them what I'd taken (she even gave them the last of my clonaz - which I wasn't happy about), they got me in the ambulance and just as Mrs Fubz was about to get in they suddenly slammed the door shut on her. 5 minutes later they let her in. Apparently my heart had stopped and that's when the defib came out. My t-shirt had been slit open as well. Is that standard practice?